


we were meant to be (but a twist of fate)

by lumineres



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-01
Updated: 2014-03-01
Packaged: 2018-01-13 14:28:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1229863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumineres/pseuds/lumineres
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> Maybe they'll burn up or fizzle out and one of them will be broken for a while, and they know they don't have forever but they have now, and that's enough. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	we were meant to be (but a twist of fate)

**Author's Note:**

> fuck i'm so fu cking sorry i cried 5+ times writing this i fucked up i fucked up im trash  
> title from happily obvs  
> but i suggest listening to 'last love song' by zz ward and 'say something' by a great big world once it gets upsetting  
> betaed by the lovely Rachel and Courtney!!!!! (gardenlouis and coeurdlarry on tumblr!!)
> 
> **edit July 4th, 2014**  
> [ this ](http://wearestarshine.tumblr.com/post/90817975245/you-are-the-space-between-my-fingers-the-empty) poem was written by the lovely Namra (as u can see on her blog) inspired by this fic and i think its just absolutely beautiful so here u go enjoy that
> 
> also, if you want to read this in Russian it's been translated [ here](http://ficbook.net/readfic/2096006) (if you translate it back to english in google translate it makes this line about "ropes of come" so poetic oh my god its literally he just came all over himself but it says something about ropes like binding him and a ship or something idk i love it tho)

 

 

 

 

“I don’t like the whole ‘soulmate’ thing.” The beautiful bronze boy, Louis, said. Harry wasn’t sure how he’d managed to get a date with this- this beautiful creature. Everything about him was perfect, and the fact that he wanted to go on a date with Harry was _insane_. They were looking at the giraffe exhibit, it was May and Harry could feel that his hair was hot from the sun, but the breeze was cool and pleasant on his skin.

“Why not?” Harry’d asked, though he wasn’t it’s biggest fan either.

“I feel like it’s a trap. I want to fall in love, not be told I’m supposed to be in love with someone.” Louis answered, turning and looking at Harry, “You know?”

“Yeah I get it. But they say once you find them you don’t care about all that.” Harry said.

“Brainwashed, they are.” Louis replied, then, “C’mon, lets go see the lions. I love lions.”

 

~

 

The first time Louis said it, Harry was a bit more than caught off guard. Louis’ was literally still inside of him and he had ropes of his own come all up his chest and he could barely hear anything but somehow he managed to catch “I love you.” and then, “Shit.” and then, “ _Shit_.” Because Harry had been startled by those three words and apparently your asshole clenches when you’re startled.

They disconnected and Louis wiped Harry off with a flannel before settling down next to him.

“Did you- um- mean that?” Harry asked timidly, feeling flushed for a couple of reasons. Louis sucked in a big breath and there was a pause. It was too long and Harry thought he might cry, because he was so, _so_ ready to say it back.

“Fuck- yes you idiot I meant it. I just- I was gonna say it tomorrow and I was gonna bring you waffles in bed and shower with you and maybe tell you after that or something I had this whole fucking speech and now I’ve just gone and ruined it.” Louis buried his face into the pillow as he talked, his words muffled into the fabric. There was a bit of silence while Harry mulled this over. Louis _loved_ him. It was such a foreign word. His parents weren’t _in love_ they were soulmates. No one was _in love_ anymore. When people started liking each other, they’d go to their local scanner and either leave elated or part ways. They’d been dating for six months and they hadn’t even discussed the scanner.

“Harry, please just bloody say something I’m going mad.” Louis pleaded, looking up from the pillow. Harry could almost see his pulse racing in the way his eyes widened. Maybe that was his own.

“I-” Harry started, but Louis cut him off.

“Shit, fuck, I’m such an idiot who says fucking ‘I love you’ during fucking sex I’m such an idiot. Really you can just forget that ever happened if you want. Or break up with me you could do that too if you want. Shit I’m so dumb fucking bloody shit. I can’t fucking belie-”

Harry kissed him. It was just to shut him up, honest. Not ‘cause he found his embarrassment endearing. Not at all.

“I love you too, you huge dumbass.” Harry said, in the most fond tone possible. He could physically see Louis relax and a goofy grin spread on his mouth.

“Really?” He sounded drunk or high like his thoughts were sluggish and one-tracked.

“Really really.” Harry laughed, and then Louis kissed him through the laugh, giggling too, and maybe the kiss was kind of messy and their lips only met a little because they were both just too happy. But it was perfect.

Harry snuggled into Louis’ arms and Louis kissed his hair.

“Does this mean I don’t get waffles?”

 

~

 

Eventually, both Harry and Louis bought into it- the whole soulmate thing. Hopelessly and disgustingly in love, how could they not be soulmates? Neither of them wanted anyone else. Harry loved Louis. Louis loved him. Simple.

Harry hadn’t meant to fall in love. But it wasn’t something people did much anymore, so he didn’t know what it was until it just kind of happened.

Most people, these days, don’t dream of falling in love like Harry’s grandparents did. When his mom was sixteen, scientists made a breakthrough in the science of soulmates. They developed a scanner. A couple would go in and hold hands, and the scanner would identify whether or not they were soulmates. Most knew beforehand, they said it was like getting pleasantly set on fire or struck with lightning made of electric happiness when you met your other half’s eyes. Some had doubts or just wanted it confirmed.

And they were the ones who just wanted it confirmed. Went in the scanner with the smallest of doubts and left with the biggest of heartaches. Harry hadn’t felt the pleasant fire or the happy lightning when they’d met two years prior, but he figured that wasn’t an everyone thing.

They weren’t soulmates.

It was like being set on fire, struck by lightning, punched by god or like, Buddha or something. Everything in Harry begged for him to cry, but he couldn’t. Not when Louis was crying into his neck in the taxi home. Not when Louis pushed Harry’s sweater off his body and sucked bruises into his chest, whispered “I love you” or “you’re mine” or “always” after each. Not when they came down and Louis gathered Harry up and curled him as small as he could to wrap around him.

 

~

 

Later, when they told their confirmed-soulmate friends, everyone cried for them. Harry still hadn’t.

 

~

 

Harry was 23 and Louis was 25 when Louis proposed. It had gone like this: they were at the zoo, where their first date was, and Harry bit into his ice cream cone (which Louis always cringed at and apologized to Harry’s teeth for him), and he’d taken much too big a bite and Louis decided that this was the perfect time to get down on one knee in front of the entire zoo while Harry had a mouthful of cookie dough ice cream the size of one of the giant tortoises a few feet away in his mouth. And Louis said:

“Harry Edward Styles, I love you like the sun loves the moon and how the stars love the sky and how a shitty song writer loves shitty similes.”

Harry’s immediate response was to tell Louis he wasn’t a shitty song writer, couldn’t be, if he’d written for some of the most famous artists out there. Some ice cream had dribbled out of the corner of his mouth and he tried frantically to stop it and swallow the lump of frozen goodness.

“Harold would you shut up I’m trying to propose to you.” Louis had continued, “And I want to spend the rest of my life with you- forever with you. Until the sun explodes and the moon drifts away and the stars blink out and the sky is turned to fire. I’ll love you after that, even, when we’re atoms in space. I’ll make sure my atoms always stay with your atoms. If I catch you with another blokes atoms I’ll, like, make a molecule and beat you up or something. I think I’ve gotten carried away. It doesn’t matter, I want to spend forever with you. Will you marry me?”

And even though the forever bit twisted like a healed-over knife in Harry’s belly and it was a combination of sad and happy tears on his cheeks, he said yes.

 

~

 

They saw each other on their wedding day. Made out and rumpled their tuxes in the hallway. Neither of them would say why they were so okay with it. But they both knew-

It was doomed anyway.

 

~

 

When Louis hit thirty-two, he decided it was all bullshit and that he wanted fucking kids already, soulmates or not soulmates. And when the twins came out of their surrogate mother via c-section with Harry’s curls and green eyes, Harry couldn’t help but feel disappointment threaded through his elation. He wanted a piece of Louis for when he left. And he knew it would be Louis who left. Knew in his heart that this was as close as he’d ever get to a soulmate. But knew Louis would someday find his, and he wouldn’t keep full-time custody of children that were part Harry’s. Harry knew he would have full custody when the time came, and Louis might babysit or visit on weekends. But if it happened before the kids were old enough, they might not even call him Daddy. They’d just have a Papa.

But none of that mattered. Not now, it didn’t. Not when Harry’s baby girl was placed in his arms. Maybe they’ll burn up or fizzle out and one of them will be broken for a while, and they know they don’t have forever but they have _now_ , and that’s enough.

 

~

 

“Mr. and Mr. Tomlinson, I promise your girls will be taken care of. But it really it’s time for the parents to leave.” Miss Day said mildly, but with slight force behind her tone.

Harry was a mess. A huge, soaking disgusting mess. He could not stop crying.

“Emily i-is allergic to seafood.” He managed through his hiccups.

“Love, I already told them. And I don’t think a pre-school will be feeding our children lobster.” Louis said, rubbing his back. Emily and Ava had already run off and were already coloring with another girl and boy and Harry cried as soon as they’d hugged his legs and cheered “Bye Papa!”

“They can’t sleep without a bedtime story.” Harry continued.

“There’s a story hour before naptime, don’t worry Mr. Tomlinson. We really need you to leave now. All the other parents have left, and it’s not healthy for the children to see you like this.” Miss Day says, most of the gentleness gone.

“Louis maybe this isn’t a good idea maybe we should wait til next year.” Harry said, turning to Louis. He could feel that his eyes were wide and he was beginning to panic.

“Miss Day, I’m really sorry about this. My husband is just very- emotional sometimes.” Louis apologized, “Can we just have a moment?”

Miss Day nodded and left.

“You know what the kids being at school means?” Louis asked in a low tone.

“That they could _die_ or get _bullied_ or boys could _like them_. Louis. _Boys._ We know how boys are and what if something _happens_ and we’re not here what if they _need_ us, what if-”

“No. Not that. It means when we get home, I can eat you out for _hours_. Cuff you to the bed and open you up with just my tongue til your crying and _begging_ for my cock. We can be as _loud_ as we want. Been a while since we got a noise complaint from the neighbors, hm? I know you loved that- when Ms. Perkins would knock on the door afterward and see you all flushed and sweaty. You’d get hard again so fast. You love people knowing, don’t you? You miss screaming and writhing, don’t you?”

Harry’s jaw had gone slack and his eyes glazed over.

“Louis. We’re in a pre school and I’m going to get a boner.”

“Then let’s go home, shall we?”

Harry nodded, feeling quite like a bobble head, and Louis lead him out of the school.

Harry gave him road head on the way home and felt like he was eighteen again.

 

~

 

The first thing Harry thought when it happened, was about the man’s wife and how he wanted to try and comfort her, shush her wailing sobs. The second was that he wanted to quiet his own- bursting from some place deep in his chest like they should have after they went through the scanner when he was eighteen. He’s thirty-seven now, and losing everything. The third was about the toddler in the stroller she was holding, and how she looked confusedly up at her father, who was looking dazedly at Louis. Fourth was about Ava and Emily, and how they were tugging on Harry’s hands and asking why he and Daddy were crying.

Louis was looking at the man with horror. His nails dug into Harry’s arm and had begun to draw blood. Murmured ‘ _no_ 's were falling from Louis' lips like raindrops, falling heavy on the linoleum tiles of the pasta sauce aisle in the grocery store.

“Harry I only love _you_.” He’d said, voice catching and disappearing altogether in some parts.

“I’m-” The man started, and Harry didn’t care to take in his appearance or what his voice sounded like.

“Don’t. Don’t tell me your name.” Louis said sadly.

“I was going to say I was sorry.” He’d finished, and Louis demanded Harry take them home, and that they were to drop the twins off at Niall’s place for some babysitting. When Harry’d walked them in, stifling back more tears, all Niall had asked was, “Did it happen?”

And Harry answered with, “I’m going to lose him, Ni, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”

When he and Louis got home, it was like he was eighteen again. Louis pushed Harry’s sweater off his body and sucked bruises into his chest, whispered “I love you” or “you’re mine” or “always” after each. Went slow with him, took his time, savored every taste and every stroke like it was his last. Because it was. Harry cried that time, let it out. Louis kissed away each of his tears as he moved in him. When he got higher and closer, he didn’t say Harry’s name, and Harry knew he’d already lost his sun and his stars. He knew that the sun had exploded and the moon had drifted away and the stars all blinked out and the sky had turned to fire and he knew that Louis didn’t love him anymore.

Neither of them slept that night, though Louis thought Harry had.

Harry felt it when Louis got up.

Heard each scratch of pen on paper.

Saw the headlights blink on.

Tasted his own tears on his tongue.

When the car had been long gone and there was nothing left but sharp, shallow breathing sounds in the room, Harry let it out again. In wails, in screams, in broken weeping and sobbing. Ava and Emily came running in, and it felt so wrong to have his seven year old daughters console him like they’d console a child. He fell asleep with them as the sun came up with colors like an explosion and the moon had drifted down and down and the stars blinked out from the light of the fire blazing in the clouds.

 

~

 

Harry'd taken to believing in alternate universes. There are a few things he knows about them. He knows that there's an infinite number of them. He knows that there's all sorts of different possibilities and every single one could exist. He knows that in some universe he wasn't born. He knows in some universe he's a girl named Harriet. One thing he knows that the scientists would disagree with is that in every single one of those universes he is in love with Louis. He knows that in every single one of those universes he and Louis are together. In one maybe they're both girls. In another maybe the zombie apocalypse has happened and they're surviving together. In one maybe they were childhood friends pushed into a closet during a party and forced to kiss. In one maybe they're world famous singers, touring the world and madly in love. Maybe there's one exactly like this universe, except they didn't need pasta sauce and they lived happily ever after.

But he got stuck with the one universe in which Louis doesn't love him.

 

~

 

A year and a half later, Harry was zipping up the back of Emily and Ava’s flower girl dresses and shoving tissues in his pockets. He always cried at weddings, this one would be worse.

When Louis’d invited him one weekend, picking up the twins for the weekend, he’d told him he absolutely by no means had to come. Harry had just nodded, looked into Louis’ clear blue eyes, and wondered if there was any piece of him that still loved him like the sun and the stars.

It was agony.

He could recite Louis’ vows from their own wedding day in his sleep, if he wanted. Hearing new ones, with a new name in front of them tore him to shreds like he was nothing. Ripped each already shredded piece of his soul in two like it was tissue paper.

 

~

 

Harry knows he’s going to have a bad night tonight- spent the whole of his day thinking about Louis and different things that had happened to them. He called Niall and Zayn earlier, asking them if they could take the girls for the night. They’d obliged, thankfully, and now Harry is rifling through his dresser in search of a twenty year old sweater. It used to be big on him, when he was eighteen and Louis was more filled out and manlier than him. He’s kept it all these years, and it’s probably not healthy to wear it. Not to mention it doesn’t fit. It was snug when he was twenty-five and a lot less lanky and built like a teenager, but now at forty his muscles have melted down a bit, though he tries his best to maintain his body, but he is a bit saggy. It’s a requirement to be middle aged, he supposes. He doesn’t wear it anymore, it’s too uncomfortable. He wraps up in one of his own oversized sweaters and holds that one and often cries into it.

It doesn’t smell like Louis anymore. It has the salty, tangy smell of tears and the sweet smell of hot chocolate- which the microwave has just beeped for.

He’s supposed to have gotten over this- gotten a hold on his life or met his own soulmate.

But something tells him neither of those things will ever happen.

He shuffles to the kitchen and stirs the chocolate mix into the hot milk. He can already feel the tears prickling behind his eyes and his chin quilting. Normally it doesn’t start until he’s had at least two sips of hot chocolate, but today was just bad.

The mug and the counter and his hand blur and he blinks his eyes shut, trying to stop the heat from overflowing.

And the doorbell rings.

“Fuck.” He curses under his breath and jams the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Be there in a sec!” He shouts, his voice breaking embarrassingly.

“Harry- I know it’s late. Please open the door.” The voice on the other side comes as a sob- but he immediately knows who it is. How could he not? His hands are doing nothing to stop his crying now, so he makes his way to the door and opens it slowly.

He’d known who it was, but that didn’t prepare him. He hadn’t seen Louis without his husband in years. Hadn’t seen him cry in a much longer time.

They’re both just crying, standing on opposite sides of the doorway, and Harry thinks it’s awfully symbolic.

“Fuck. Harry I-” Louis tries but sobs choke him up too much, “I’m so fucking sorry- I’m so fucking sorry.”

Harry wants to hold him, but he thinks if he does he’ll never let go.

“I can’t fucking sleep at night anymore I just- I fucking loved you.”

The next sob leaves Harry like a breath of air after a punch to the stomach.

“I loved you so fucking much. Please can I come in.” There are tears streaking down his cheeks and his hair is a mess and his shoes are muddy, Harry thinks he walked here. He steps aside and Louis stumbles in.

“Please- say something.” Louis begs, looking at him with watery cornflower blue eyes, crows feet etched at the corners.

Harry opens his mouth, but nothing but a cry leaves it, and he sits himself right down on the floor and cries into Louis’ old sweater.

“Shit- Louis. You can’t- you can’t fucking do this to me. You can’t waltz in here and tell me how much you loved me past tense. I knew that. I know that. You gave me bites of your food. You made sure I had an umbrella if it rained. You’d work from home if I was sick. God Lou, you had children with me for god’s sake. I know you fucking loved me. You were my sun and stars and I was your moon and sky. But he’s your _universe_.” Most of what he said was probably incoherent, but he couldn’t care less. Here, looking at Louis from the floor, he feels like he’s getting stitches, one for each day “I love you” was in the past tense.

Louis kneels down on the floor in front of him and wipes his cheeks with his palms.

“Are the girls here?” He asks, voice quieter.

“No, they’re at Niall and Zayn’s place for the night.” Harry says, and his throat feels like he’s swallowed a tennis ball.

Before he knows what’s happening he’s tasting salt. Tears and that salty sort of mucus thing that builds up in your mouth when you cry. Under that he’s tasting beer. Under that he’s tasting Louis.

His brain is slow to catch up and it takes him a solid minute- in which time he’d pushed Louis back and lifted his shirt, fingers slotting into the spaces between his ribs and feeling his pulse racing under the skin- to actually comprehend what’s happening.

He already hates himself for it, but he pulls away.

“No- Louis you can’t do that to him. He’s your soulmate.”

Louis’ crying again, sobbing into the back of his wrist, and Harry is realizing that it affected Louis as much as it affected him.

“You should go home. I’ll give you a ride if you need one.” Harry says, in wonder about how his voice is so calm, when inside he’s screaming in agony- needle piercing through skin without an anesthetic and pulling the wound closed.

This seems to make Louis angry, because he shouts, “He may be my soulmate, _but I loved you_.”

“Yes! _Loved!_ Past tense! Don’t you get it? Are you not hearing yourself? You don’t love me anymore, Louis! You don’t! You’re remembering how you did, and _that’s all_!”

“ _It should have been you!”_ Louis roars.

“ _But it wasn’t!_ ” Harry yells back, yet another cry catching in his throat.

They sit there, across from each other for a moment, doing nothing but trying to catch their breath.

“Just one last time.” Louis says quietly, “Just kiss me one last time.”

Harry knows he should say no, knows he should send Louis on his way, but he finds himself leaning forward. He presses his lips to Louis’ scratchy cheek. He can feel his mouth and eyelids trembling trying to hold off from more crying. He stays there for a long moment, breathing in the scent of Louis. He wants to feel his hair again, and his thighs and his tongue and his fingertips threaded through his. He pulls away, but before he can stop himself presses another kiss to Louis’ shoulder, on the bump where his collar bone ends. This is all he can allow himself, his lips pressed to that skin.

He pulls away and Louis nods like he understands.

They both get up and walk back toward the door.

“I loved you.” Louis says and there’s a finality to it, like it’s a goodbye rather than a declaration.

“And I loved you.” And there’s the past tense.

The corner of Louis lips tip up in a small, sad smile, and he closes the door behind him.

Last stitch, cut the thread.

Wound closed.

 

**Author's Note:**

> the last bit is supposed to be in present tense  
> and also i didnt name louis' soulmate bc i was mad at him  
> follow me on [tumblr](spankingkink.tumblr.com) if you dont hate me??  
> twitter is @sophiekink_


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